‘You know Belle Barton went into one of the crack places? Well since the fires started they say she’s been back. One of the Vietnamese said they saw a dragon woman,’ said Alec, one of Harlan’s boys. ‘You know that funny thing they have, hanging mirrors on the outside of doors? One of them reckons he saw a woman reflected there and she was going to burn the place down. He said it was her, the same woman, but marked up bad. Scarred.’
Harlan held the phone away from his ear. He stared at it. Then he brought it back. ‘What you bothering me with this stupid shit for?’ he asked.
‘She lit the fire. She had men with her, horrible big bastards, helping her. But it was her who set the fire. She was smiling, he said, and it was the most terrifying thing he had ever seen. Then the whole place went up and he was lucky to get out alive.’
Harlan thought of Ludo’s last call to him. A trickle of something cold touched his spine, making him give a shiver. ‘She’s scarred up something awful . . .’
‘Call me when you’ve got some actual facts,’ he said, and slammed the phone down.
He sat there, thinking.
Nah.
Belle was . . . well, where was she, exactly?
He took a shower, still thinking.
Was Belle somehow doing this? Was this her revenge?
Nah. He shook himself, dried off and got dressed.
Superstitious bullshit.